


Follow Your Fire

by Lionescence



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Disaster gay Shiro, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-S6, S7E1 Spoilers, The smut is in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 08:23:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15626676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionescence/pseuds/Lionescence
Summary: Returning to Earth and the Garrison has Shiro dealing with quite a lot of things.He'd gone into space. Captured, imprisoned, tortured. Crash-landed back to Earth, back out again into an intergalactic war. Died. Cloned. Betrayed. Nearly died again. Brought back to life. And at each juncture, every time he opened his eyes, there was Keith.Maybe, it was time.





	Follow Your Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This was never going to be canon-compliant, so I hope you enjoy this before S7 drops. This is still powered by all my S6 feelings, so there's that. 
> 
> I hope everyone's braced for the 13-episode tsunami. We who are about to die, salute you.
> 
> Inspired by Follow Your Fire by Kodaline.

Shiro could not take his eyes off him.

How Keith hadn’t noticed yet — or had he, and he was just good at hiding it? — was a mystery to him. In all that time travelling back to Earth, when it was just him, Keith, and Keith’s cosmic wolf Halley, in the Black Lion, he could do nothing more than look. And look.

He was still looking now, in one of the Garrison corridors. Lance and Hunk’s families had arrived, and were waiting for them in one of the other rooms. Pidge and Matt were together, and Sam and Colleen had met them as soon as they’d touched down, so they managed to not be attached to their parents’ hips for the now. Coran and Romelle had taken Halley with them on an errand that had already slipped Shiro’s mind, because —

Gods above, but Keith was beautiful.

He thought about Coran’s little quip, about how he’d have to switch Lance and Keith’s numbers because Keith was now the taller of the two, so that made him Number Three instead of Number Four. That, everyone had noticed from the first moment. But there was also the breadth of his shoulders, the way his chest had filled out, and Keith had long legs before but now they were almost ridiculous. His hair had grown a little past his shoulders, heavier over his eyes, and every day Shiro ached to touch it.

Before, he was a force of nature in his Paladin armour, skittish and brave. Now, he was resplendent as a leader, as commanding as he was deadly.

Shiro thought about the slip of a boy, too small for his age, too thin, too much hair. The struggle to get him to gain weight, to control his temper, to hone his already laser-sharp focus into something _other_. That angry, lonely, fiercely _loyal_ little ball of fire.

Now there he stood, listening to Lance and nodding, calm as a winter lake. Something about meeting his family. Hunk was chiming in with the same, but Keith was shaking his head, tipping his head towards the room at the end of the corridor where the top brass of the Garrison were waiting. Incredibly, Lance pouted at the notion that Keith had to be elsewhere.

It was heartening to see. Keith had grown into everything Shiro believed in, and Keith being Keith, he surpassed even that. In a way it made him sad, because all it had taken was two years in isolation with his long-lost mother. Who could Keith have grown into, if he hadn’t lost either of his parents, if those two years made him this strong, this steady. The other Paladins now looked to him for leadership, for advice, for direction, for assurance. And now with the gift of patience, he could give them all that and more.

He watched as Lance and Hunk peeled away, moving to the room where their families were waiting, tearful and happy and excited. Watched as Keith watched them go, a quiet, satisfied smile on his face. And with the hiss of the door opening, that smile vanished, and Keith quickly looked away, putting all his attention on the Holt siblings.

Shiro didn’t understand the sudden change in his demeanour, until —

“Takashi?”

His head snapped around at the sound of that voice, a voice he once held so dear.

 _Adam_.

He looked… exactly as he’d left him. He didn’t even look that much older. Maybe his hair fell a little longer into his eyes, behind those glasses, maybe his skin hadn’t seen as much sun as it used to, warm instead of glowing like he remembered. His voice was exactly the same.

“Oh. Oh god. It really is you.”

Before he knew it, Shiro had his ex in his arms, but despite the memories churning through him — the feel of Adam’s arms around him, the way his clever fingers carded through his now silver hair, the smell of him — he couldn’t bring himself to hug him back. He lifted his hands, one flesh, one Altean-Olkari, and held him by the biceps, hoping that it would be enough.

His throat was tight when he said, “Adam,” but he wasn’t sure why.

Adam pulled back, and their eyes met, and again, Shiro couldn’t find what it was he thought was missing in them. They’d been together for years. They’d been _in love_. They were going to get _married_. And yet.

“When Commander Holt came back, I didn’t — I didn’t know what to think. And then he said that you and Matt were alive and that there was a war and —” Adam took a breath, swallowed, and Shiro remembered that that was something he did when he was nervous. “Takashi. I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“I am,” he managed. _I am, because of Keith_. Shiro let out a sigh, something quiet clicking into place inside him. “Adam, I —”

The doors to the room at the end of the corridor slid open, and out stepped Sam Holt, at the very same moment Allura and Krolia came around the corner. Krolia immediately went to her son, and nuzzled the hair at his temple; Keith let out an odd little chirp in return, smiling a smile that was purely son to mother.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute. Do you purr, too?” Matt teased.

Keith said nothing, only kept his smile and reached over to cuff Matt upside his head.

There was something so wonderfully beautiful in that, Shiro knew. Because once upon a time, Keith would have scowled, crossed his arms, and closed himself off. He no longer attacked everything, instead striding past and through and always ready with a counter.

“Matthew,” Sam chided good-naturedly. “I’m glad you’re all here now. They’re waiting for you.”

Allura did not look entirely happy. “Your Earth military is so… _adamant_ about ranks and titles. I really don’t understand it. We are all equals as Paladins of Voltron.”

Sam laughed at that. “Yes, well. They see Voltron as a squadron, and every squadron has a leader. Someone of rank.”

“But it means nothing to us,” Allura snapped. “It’s ridiculous.”

Pidge was holding back giggles. “Did you forget you were a Princess, Allura? I mean, you pretty much outrank everyone in that room.”

“Oh, let them underestimate her,” Krolia said, a sly smile on her face. She looked briefly back at Keith, who wore an identical smirk.

“Let's get this over with.”

At Keith’s voice, Shiro finally came back to himself. “I’m sorry, Adam, could you excuse me for a second?” Once he had Adam’s nod, that he would wait — _so why wouldn’t he wait before?_ — he approached the group. “They’re calling us in now?”

Keith shook his head. “Us, but not you. I’m not letting the Garrison within fifty feet of you if I can help it, after what they did. Allura, Mom, and I will go in with Commander Holt. Between the four of us we have all the information we need to prepare for whatever the Galra have planned.”

“But —”

“You’re still our Black Paladin, Shiro,” Allura said, a hand coming to his shoulder. “You always will be. Please do not worry about that. Keith isn’t about to relieve you of your co-leading duties any time soon. But you have been through enough, and you deserve a rest.”

 _But so does Keith_ , he thought wildly, remembering the bruises, the cuts, the dislocated shoulder that tore open his Trial wound. The day he’d coughed up blood and collapsed because a broken rib had punctured a lung and he hadn’t _known_ , damn his Galra resilience. The scar on Keith’s cheek glared at him, twisting his stomach into knots. Somehow, instead of begging for… he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he said, “You do know Iverson is in there, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Keith said, his smirk now switchblade-sharp. Neither of them were petty, but oh, this was such sweet revenge for Keith, and a moment of utter pride for Shiro. “But you know I was never scared of him, Shiro.”

And he couldn’t stop the way his mouth dried out, the way his stomach decided to undo its knots and do backflips instead, when Keith straightened his spine and drew his shoulders back. It was almost like watching Allura shapeshift, except this was all Keith. He might as well have died — again — when the Red Paladin said, “If anything, _he_ should be scared of  _me_.”

With that, he followed Sam to the meeting room, Allura and Krolia behind him, Pidge telling him to, “kick ass, Keith!”

Somewhere in Shiro’s mind, the words ‘ass’ and ‘Keith’ met in an almighty crash, and he found that he was staring a little lower than usual.

Those legs ought to be illegal.

“Is that _Keith?_ ”

Shiro nearly jumped out of his skin at Adam’s voice, but he held fast, and somehow reassembled some sort of decorum before answering, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Wow. He’s… _grown_. What happened?” Adam said, chuckling.

Shiro loved that little chuckle, once.

“Apparently time in a quantum abyss is weird.”

He watched the door open again, Sam ushering the other three in, and immediately they all recognized the boom of Iverson’s voice. “ _YOU?_ ”

“Commanders Iverson, Montgomery, Hedrik,” came Sam’s smooth drawl, “this is Princess Allura of the planet Altea, Krolia of the Blade of Marmora, and Commander Keith Kogane, leader of Voltron.”

The door hissed shut just as Iverson choked on the word ‘Commander’, and they heard nothing more.

A beat of silence later, Shiro drew a deep breath, and turned to Adam.

“Adam. I think we need to talk.”

 

 

It felt good.

No, that wasn’t true. Of course it hadn’t feel good. Adam had wanted them to try again, having lived with the regret of that bad breakup. He had been sincere, and Shiro could see that. Adam was never anything but. Maybe there was a reality somewhere where Shiro agreed, where they would have dinner, and try to rekindle what they once had.

It just wasn’t this one.

The man Adam wanted back had, for all intents and purposes, died. That body, that had known the pain of his disease, the loving touches and caresses of his then-boyfriend, that carried a broken heart to the far reaches of their solar system, had disintegrated, leaving nothing but his consciousness behind, trapped in the Black Lion. But that mind and soul, too, had died, in a way, because they weren’t the same ones that left Earth. Weren’t even the same ones that crash-landed back on Earth for less than twenty-four hours before hurtling back into space again.

His heart, though? Oh, but his heart was the same. Just changed. Because before that body died his heart wasn’t there with him anymore. He’d given it away for safe-keeping, had it returned to a version of him who needed it more than he realized, and then further safeguarded through blood and battle until he stood here, once again, all of him as intact as he can be.

And that heart beat only for Keith.

It hadn’t felt good, to turn Adam down. To cry in his arms and turn the final page of their story. They were not physically apart, but their parting this time was better, kinder.

It hadn’t felt good. But it felt _right_.

The tension he’d carried when he’d first stepped off the Black Lion had faded now. How strange that deep down he’d known why coming home had unsettled him, why he couldn’t muster the same excitement as everyone else. But he felt all right now. Not excited, perhaps, but he could embrace the familiar and enjoy it while he could.

The Garrison decided that it would be good for morale and diplomacy to hold an informal dinner party, something that escaped the Paladins’ knowledge but that explained Coran and Romelle’s earlier absence. The five original Paladins now all wore matching uniforms, not unlike Shiro’s old officer’s uniform: instead of the standard pale grey with gold Garrison patterns, theirs were a shade closer to charcoal, the Voltron symbol embroidered on the left breasts and upper sleeves of their jackets in their respective colours. Only Keith and Shiro had their symbols edged in gold, marking them as the co-commanders of Voltron.

They worked the room separately, balancing plates of food and glasses of their drinks while making conversation. Keith began his evening immediately swamped by Lance’s massive family, and then Hunk’s smaller one. While Iverson still glowered at the Red Paladin, Montgomery held Keith in amicable discussion; it made sense, given she was the flight instructor while Keith was a cadet, and she had always been impressed with him. Then Keith found himself talking to the other students of the Garrison — some younger cadets, some from his batch — and Shiro couldn’t help but find amusement in how the cadet everyone had been jealous of, had _hated_ , now had the eyes of almost everyone in the room.

Amusement, and perhaps a touch of jealousy. Keith wasn’t theirs. Keith wouldn’t have any of them. But then, was he Shiro’s, really? And would Keith have him?

And could he really blame anyone for wanting Keith? The new uniform was doing him _a lot_ of favours, in ways that the undersuit of his Paladin armour didn’t. Or at least, they were different favours, because it was hard to not enjoy the sight of Keith in something so skin-tight.

(There were vague memories that weren’t entirely his, of stumbling over his words when Keith returned, two years older, in his Blade uniform, because that get-up was another thing that should be illegal.)

But the military uniform was something else. His longer hair curled around the collar, framing his delicate cheekbones and squared-out jawline. The fitted trousers draped over his legs perfectly, the cut of the jacket emphasised his strong back and shoulders, his trim waist. And the way everything pulled slightly when Keith resettled his stance, cocking his hip just _so_ …

Shiro downed his glass of champagne in one, and tried to move away, so Keith wasn’t in his line of sight. Because he needed to be fair to Keith, to the both of them, and he needed to really consider what it was he wanted. Because for all of Keith’s strange beauty — and they knew why that was now, seeing that Krolia was getting nearly as much attention as her son — he was also devoted, courageous, kind. He’d stood by him when no one else had faith in him, not even the man he once loved. Fought through space and time and more just to keep him safe, to get him back. Nearly died when he was already dead and even then managed to bring him back to life. Nearly died by his own — this body’s — hand.

And still, Keith’s kind, gentle heart forgave him. Not just him, but the clone, too. Forgave all those horrible things he’d said to him at that clone facility, forgave every hit that landed, forgave the scar that now marred his lovely face. It was so paradoxical, that his faith was so fiery in its temper while his kindness was so tender it seemed impossibly fragile. But it was that kindness that saved him, that kindness that was so strong. It was kindness that cradled a baby bird and hand-fed it until it was strong enough to fly, kindness that earned a giant sentient lion’s trust, kindness that made sense of cosmic dust, kindness that cut off his arm after _“I love you.”_

Keith. Keith _loved_ him.

However he meant it, whatever it meant, it was there. And really, it had always been there, because Keith acted rather than spoke. Shiro had known, had always known, but it hadn’t made true sense until now. Until he saw the way Keith looked at Adam, until he could no longer find what it was he was seeking in Adam’s eyes. Now it made sense, that _“You’re my brother”_ was Keith’s safeguard. Keith, who gave and gave and gave, refused to ask for just this one more thing, denied himself to protect the both of them. Or so he thought.

“C’mon, Keith, just this once! It’s back to business tomorrow so this is all you’ve got!”

Lance’s voice and the sudden change in the music’s tempo and volume caught his attention. Probably Pidge’s doing, judging from her manic grin, the thumbs-up, and the long-suffering sigh from her parents. Shiro looked over and found Lance dragging Keith to the dance floor where younger cadets and members of Lance and Hunk’s family were already having fun. Hunk had Lance’s niece up on his shoulders, Coran was keeping perfect time with Allura, and Matt was bouncing around Romelle, likely confusing the poor girl.

But there was Keith, looking stiff and uncertain for a moment, before Lance reached over and undid the fastenings of Keith’s jacket, leaving it to hang open and loose around him, just as Lance had. Underneath they all wore the same fitted black t-shirt, and the way it stretched over Keith’s new figure forced Shiro to swallow. After some cajoling — he followed Keith’s line of sight, saw that he was looking at Krolia; Krolia, who smiled and nodded, as if he needed his mother’s permission to be himself — Keith relaxed, and once upon a time Shiro would have wondered if hell had frozen over, because Keith was dancing with Lance.

The dancing itself wasn’t all that surprising: Keith was graceful, well coordinated, and everyone pretended to not know that whenever Keith was alone doing maintenance he’d have his earbuds in and he would shimmy and twirl and tap his fingers while he worked. But the slow smile — “There you go! Now you’re getting into it!” — and the eventual laugh, head thrown back, hair bouncing, was so entirely captivating that Shiro couldn’t look anywhere else.

For now, before tomorrow dawned and the leadership of Voltron draped across his shoulders once more, Keith was happy. And happiness on Keith was so rare that it was radiant as a thousand stars, as all the stars Shiro had seen in his time with Voltron. It made him feel… content. Satisfied with his life as it was now. He would ask for nothing more if Keith could stay this happy, dancing with Lance, with Hunk, now with Allura, for all time.

“I know I said it before, but he really has grown.”

Shiro didn’t jump this time at Adam’s presence, but he had missed when he appeared beside him, too absorbed in his contentment. He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. Really, I think we all have. Keith just… had extra time.”

“Mmm. Something about a quantum abyss?”

“He said he was in there for two years. When he came back out, it’d only been weeks for the rest of us.”

“That must have been a surprise.”

It had been. Not directly _his_ surprise, but yes. “It’s… a lot to take in. Still is.”

He felt Adam lean against the wall beside him, setting them shoulder-to-shoulder, but with that new distance between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Together, they watched the rest of Team Voltron dance, bemused that those same people were the universe’s best and greatest hope. Keith had Pidge now, and whirling around each other they looked as much brother-and-sister as she and Matt did.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” Adam mused, almost to himself. “When I saw him, in the same armour you were wearing, I wasn’t… entirely surprised? Back then he’d have gone to the ends of the world with you. For you.”

Shiro hummed, thoughtful. “Instead he went to the ends of the universe.” He shook his head, sighing with the pleasant weight of what it was to be overwhelmed by Keith Kogane. Just as overwhelming when they’d first met, but different, now. “I can’t — I can’t tell you how many times he’s saved my life. How each and every time he promised to never give up on me, all because I never gave up on him. He’s torn through galaxies just to keep that promise.”

“And that’s what you deserve, Shiro.”

He snapped around, locking eyes with Adam, who only smiled. It was a sad smile, but a generous one.

 _Shiro_. He’d surrendered his right to his first name.

“I’ve been thinking, since our talk,” he went on. “We were going to get married, weren’t we? All those promises, all those vows. And yet, when I think about it, I don’t think I ever honoured a single one of them with you. At least, not whole-heartedly, because I expected something in return. I shouldn’t have done. Not if I truly loved you.” He turned away, then, and Shiro followed his gaze, landing back on Keith. “But Keith. Keith is all heart. Always was. And he’s given it all to you.”

“Adam —”

But Adam simply leaned up, and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek, and nothing felt more like a goodbye. “You deserve him. So go get him.”

Shiro blinked stupidly for a moment, while Adam laughed and held up a glass in front of him. “Balvenie Doublewood 12. Your favourite.”

He took it, still feeling somewhat stupid, and downed the shot in one. He relished the burn of the whisky, the sweetness; he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this little treat. He handed the glass back, sighed, smiled, and pulled Adam in for a hug. It was familiar, and warm, full of happy memories and hopes and dreams, but it was done, and it was okay.

“Thank you.”

Adam shook his head, and Shiro hoped the sadness wouldn’t last long, that Adam would find his own way, too. “You deserve to be happy, Shiro. Now go.” He reached for his shoulders and bodily turned him around to face the dance floor, shoving him, laughing. “Go get him!”

Shiro gave one look back, unable to stop the grin splitting his face, then straightened himself and walked into the fray.

 

 

“That was really generous of you,” Matt said, collapsing against the wall beside Adam. He was huffing a little — Pidge had a lot more energy than he remembered, and Lance had challenged him to some kind of dance off for Allura’s entertainment— but it was the good kind of tired. Matt and Adam watched together, as Shiro cleaved through the crowd, set on his singular goal, and the look of utter bewilderment on Keith’s face when Shiro asked Pidge if he could cut in was priceless.

It took a few awkward moments, but once a new song started, the two pilots of the Black Lion smiled at each other, and they began to move together, always together, always touching, close and careful, like they were the only two people in the world.

Adam let out a long breath, no longer yearning. “He loved me, Matt. I know he did. But…”

Shiro was smiling, a broad brilliant thing that seemed to light up the whole room. He held Keith by his elbows, and Keith was laughing, full and bright. He was stunning in ways that Adam knew he could never be, because only Shiro could see every inch of it. Only Shiro could find all the good and beautiful in that boy all those years ago, in the man who stood before him now.

“He wanted the stars. He always did. And he’s finally caught one.”

 

 

Shiro felt dizzy, ridiculous with joy. His jacket was undone, his hair was a mess, his heart was so, so full. He had Keith in front of him, black hair silky and shining in the lights, those perfect little crinkles around his eyes when he smiled, and gods, that smile: the way it lit up his face and set his violet eyes alight, and there were galaxies upon galaxies of stars in them.

_I love you._

“Keith, I —”

“Yeah?”

And suddenly the words were gone. How do you tell your best friend you’re in love with him? What words were adequate, nevermind right? How do you put all these feelings and thoughts into a sentence that would change everything, and maybe nothing at all?

“Shiro?”

Shiro huffed, rolled his eyes, and shrugged. “Aw, to hell with it.”

He kissed him, full on the lips, and they were soft, a little chapped, but warm. There was a small squeak that he would tease Keith about later, but for now, a gentle heat glowed within him where pieces of his soul were soldering back into place, the cracks filled in with the gold that was Keith’s name. The Red Paladin hesitated for all of a few seconds before returning the kiss, going heavy and pliant.

They were two stars, orbiting each other since forever. It was time to collide, and explore the supernova that was _them_.

Shiro pulled back, to find a wide-eyed blushing Keith, lips still wet and slightly parted. Somewhere the rest of Team Voltron were cheering and whooping; the whistling had to be Lance. Somewhere, Romelle was asking what was going on, and _weren’t they together already?_ Somewhere, Krolia was looking on, and Shiro locked down the fear of meeting the sole parent properly. Somewhere, Pidge was yelling, “Team Fire In The Sky is go, I repeat: Team Fire In The Sky is go!”

Keith blinked his doe-eyes at him, tilted his head in question, a tiny, hysterical giggle escaping him. “Shiro?”

He pulled him close again, resting their foreheads together, and Shiro never felt so whole and perfect as he did in this moment.

“Call me Takashi.”

 

 

 _We had the songs that we sang along to_  
_You had the moves to make me dance with you_  
_I always saw you reaching and catching stars_  
_Did you follow your, follow your fire?_  
_We had the thing that everyone wanted_  
_Hung on your sleeve, you wore your heart on it_  
_Did you get out, I’m wondering where you are_  
_Did you follow your, follow your fire?_

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, that's what Keith and Shiro are dancing to.


End file.
